Tradition
by athenaphoenix17
Summary: It was the Halloween five years after the Wizarding War. This year Harry did something different. This year, he wanted to visit his parents grave alone. But, did he really want to be alone? Was he the only one who wanted to visit the graveyard on this fateful day?


A/N: This was my first time writing fic for the day James and Lily lost their life. If this is the first time you read my fic, you need to know that I'm a HUGE fan of Hermione, sto my story will be mostly Hermione-centric.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

31 October 2003

He didn't know what made him coming here on this day. He usually avoided being alone on this exact day, he'd preferred enjoying it with his friends. At least when he was too tired, he could forget what had happened to his parents on this date years ago.

Today was different. He had spent a good amount of time with the Weasleys, but he cut it short. Again, he didn't know why but he had spent some time to mull it over before finally Apparating to Godric Hollow.

This was the first time he visited Godric Hollow on Halloween Day, so he was quite surprised when he saw lots of children running around for trick or treating. He smiled sadly, wondering if things were different, he might have his chance of trick or treating in Godric Hollow before he went to Hogwarts. He imagined going as some kind of Muggle superhero or something, Padfoot would be on his side (oh, he was sure Sirius would love the tradition), Moony would be the responsible chaperone while his parents would hold the fort to give away candy to neighborhood's kids.

He shook his head and walked toward Potter's Cottage, his former house. He couldn't pull a single memory of his time here, but it still felt like home. Unlike the first time he visited this house five years ago, the house looked more presentable as if someone was taking care of it. It was still ruined, but the ivy that was covering most of the house was now nowhere to be seen, the lawn was tidied up, and the trees looked healthier.

He crouched near the memorial sign, and saw some new messages on a message board erected near the memorial. He was sure he didn't see the message board when he first visited this house because he remembered Hermione's discomfort when she discovered people "vandalizing" the memorial sign, but when he returned the following Christmas after Tom Riddle's defeat in the second Wizarding War, he noticed the board and it was flooded with thank you and support messages on small pieces of parchment. Whomever placed the board was quite thoughtful and he had an idea on who it might be.

He took his time reading all the messages and as always, made a copy of all of them for himself. Sometimes, he spent his time replying to some of them. He never deluded himself that he was a celebrity, but if those gratitude and encouragement words could bring a smile to him, he was hoping his reply could do the same thing.

After spending quite some time walking in the now neat yard, he dragged his feet to the cemetery near the church. He opened the kissing gate and walked toward the familiar white tombstone.

This was the first time he visited his parents' grave on Halloween. He always returned every Christmas Eve with Hermione, making it a new tradition. He smiled, remembering several new traditions both of them had started. He still remembered the sadness that numbed him when he first saw his parents' grave, how he could only stare blankly and cry silently when Hermione decided to conjure a wreath of roses on the white tombstones.

Their visit after that was better. Hermione usually brought a blanket for them to sit on, and she left him for half an hour so he could converse with his parents.

Today there wouldn't be blanket to sit on or flowers to lay on the grave. He would be alone.

He thought he wanted to be alone when he visited them for the first time on the night they lost their life, but it was harder than he imagined it would. But he knew he had to do it. Somehow, he felt like he had to do it.

To his surprise, he saw one Hermione Granger kneeled in front of the grave. When she stood up, Harry saw a very nice bouquet of lily flowers laid in front of the tomb.

He never thought she would come here alone on this day. She never told him about this.

As he walked closer, Hermione felt his presence and with the speed that could made Moody proud, she turned around, wand clutched tightly in hand.

"Oh," her brown eyes looked even bigger when she recognized who was the intruder.

Harry, who raised his hands, chuckled at her.

He took his place beside her.

"Happy Halloween, Hermione," he said, intertwining their fingers.

"Happy Halloween, Harry," she replied, leaning her head on his shoulders.

And they stayed like that for a while. There was no need for words, just being there for each other was enough.


End file.
